last week was the last week my roommate was sharing my apartment, he moved out somewhere in the middle of it... it was bittersweet, mostly sweet, cuz having the whole apartment is better. i've already commandeered his room for my bike and all my bike accessories. not having someone around to avoid and stay away from and complain about is lonely and boring, though.
like for instance, i no longer have to turn up the tv while he is slamming cupboards and the fridge and the microwave... nothing was ever done quietly (and i desire nothing more after 6 hours with kids than quiet... sometimes i come home and the cats meow at me and out of habit i say 'shhhhh') it was so stressful when he would cook, especially when he would be on the phone at the same time; i can still see him sucking his fingers after checking the temperature up to the second joint on two of them, and the grimy food marks are still on the door where he would push it open retreating to eat his kill in front of his computer. i don't wanna imagine the condition of his computer keys & mouse buttons. once he offered to fix something on my computer ... i told him my computer wasn't hungry (no i didn't)
so last week, when the temperature in peoria was july-ish and humid, he was suffering heat exhaustion, apparently to the point where merely opening the windows was not enough. in our apartment, my apartment... my apartment... gotta get used to it... in my apartment, cross-ventilation is not hard to achieve. but cross ventilation was not enough. apparently, in (formerly) our apartment, we had to open the windows
and the screens. the mesh screens, darn them, were blocking too much of the draft, and we were not receiving the full benefit of whatever draft was available.
i didn't do anything about the open screens, like everything else he did, i just left it alone... whatever, don't ask questions, i always say. no i don't.
well, i should have done something about the open screens i guess. maple tree helicopters covered the floor near every window and they were in the kitchen sink, the bathroom, everywhere... it was like living outside. then i went to the sink for some water to wake up with. flap flap... flap flap... i knew as soon as i heard it... i had killed one with a tennis racket in wisconsin, and it sounds like a plastic shopping bag, only this one made a thudding sound as it flapped.
there in the sink was a bat. wet. possibly injured. flapping. still horribly alive and rat-looking. i left it there for the roommate to find; he let it in, he should at least see it. i didn't figure it was going anywhere soon.
when i arrived back home, the roommate was gone to work, and the bat was still lounging, near death, near the garbage disposal (i was almost tempted...)
i decided to be humane, though, and used a fork & spoon to lift it out the window and drop it, to whatever fate it was left.
i always end up feeling sorry for them, but while they are alive and 'threatening,' i want them dead or gone or both.
the bat opened its wings, and appeared to have potential, but i'm not too hopeful. bats outside are good... inside they are scary. have you ever seen a
skeleton of a bat?
